Fan Fiction ❯ Demons in the Dark ❯ Chapter 8

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Italics indicate memory or dreams.

Commonly used Sindarin words:

Ai: Oh!
pen-neth: young one
muindor: brother
gwador: sworn brother, not those by blood
Ada: dad
melethron: lover
a'maelamin: lover
ernil-nín: my prince
ion nín: my son
*~*~*

"What happened?" Elrond asked rising from behind his desk as Glorfindel supported a bleeding Estel into his study.

"Elladad jubped be," Estel muttered, the words swallowed by pain and his blocked sinuses.

"He jumped you?" Elrond repeated, glancing at the blonde for clarification before moving to the small chest of healing herbs and bandages kept in his office for emergencies such as this.

"Aye," Glorfindel replied, easing the bruised and battered adopted son of Elrond into a chair.

Elrond knelt between the man's legs. "Tip your head forward, Estel," he advised gently. "That way you won't choke." When he glanced up again at Glorfindel, his lover read the silent request there.

Kneeling, the fair Eldar opened the box of healing supplies and handed them to his lord and love. "Estel asked after the Prince, jesting about his absence as he has done in the past. Elladan leapt on him before the words were barely out of his mouth."

The blood pouring forth from the edain's nose had slowed and Elrond cautiously examined it. "What exactly did you say, Estel?"

The dark haired man winced but made no protest as Elrond poked and prodded his face, checking for other broken bones, besides the most obvious one. " I asked if he'd succeeded in making him leave, never to return," he answered, his voice clearing as the flow of fluids ceased.

Elrond sat back with a sigh and closed his eyes briefly. "Ai, but you could not have known," he said, half to himself.

"Ada?" Estel queried softly.

"The Prince left suddenly yesterday afternoon, after an argument with Elladan. He set off alone, with no supplies, and your brother feels as if he is to blame for Legolas' hasty departure."

The Lord of Imladris did not miss the look that passed between his lover and his youngest son. "What has happened?" he asked, sitting up straight once more to resume his once over of Estel's face.

Estel closed his eyes, submitting to his father and permitting Glorfindel to speak. "We passed the scene of an attack this morning, my lord," the seneschal said softly, feeling as if he were casting a dark shadow over the house with his words. "Not far from the ascent to the High Pass. We saw the tracks of one horse. We found no bodies, of rider or mount. We traced them as far as what appeared to be an Easterling trap, but dared not press on alone." A great weight settled over his heart as he spoke, knowing now that the fair young Prince had quite likely been the target of that attack. "The tracks were but hours old, certainly no more than a day," Glorfindel all but whispered.

Elrond did not physically react to the news, but Glorfindel could sense his mood change. Resigned sadness at the actions of his son had been replaced by fear, anger, and tension. The sadness was still there, but buried under the new emotions.

"If Legolas was on the road alone," Estel broke the brief silence, sitting up suddenly. "We must go after him, Ada!"

Elrond placed a gentle hand on his human son's chest and pushed him gently back into the chair. "You are not going anywhere just yet," he said softly. "Your nose is broken and will be quite painful for a few days likely, but you are in no shape to jump back in the saddle." The raven-haired lord sat back again. "And I will not risk any more members of this house. The head of the High Pass is many hours distant, and already the day grows late."

"My lord, I could," Glorfindel started, but Elrond cut him off.

"Nay, Glorfindel," he said softly. He turned dark eyes up to his lover's ageless face. "If the beasts are massing again this close to the borders, it is not safe to send any out when they would have to return in the dark."

Glorfindel saw the pain in Elrond's eyes, though he tried to hide it. The memories of Celebrian's passing were never far away when the subject of orcs was breached. Especially not when another that Elrond loved was possibly suffering a similar fate.

"You shall ride out in the morning," Elrond continued. "Take the gwenyn, and Estel, if he feels up to it. I shall send further word to Thranduil, and caution him to look closely to the road for his son's arrival, and to return the favor when the Greenleaf returns to his borders."

Glorfindel nodded, not liking the decision but knowing how much it also hurt his lover to make. He would not risk the others of his family when it was only a possibility that the Prince had fallen to harm. After all, Glorfindel tried to think positively, Legolas was an accomplished warrior, skilled with both blade and bow. He was more than capable of defending himself.

Elrond turned his attention once again to the young Man slumped in the chair. He had a look of defeat about him, no doubt considering the fact that his father did not seem to care for the well being of one of his closest friends.

"You must understand, Estel," Elrond said softly, sensing his mood as the man was unable to sense Elladan's not long before. "It is not easy that I make this choice. Sunrise shall be soon enough for you to ride out again, when you are rested from your travels, and had a chance to heal a little, nay?" Though it didn't reach his lips, humor twinkled in Elrond's eyes.

"Perhaps," Estel conceded. It was true, that at the moment, the prospect of mounting back up made his new bruises and weary muscles band together in protest.

Elrond patted the man on the knee. "Go take some rest, then, pen-neth," he said softly. "I shall bring a compress later to help with the swelling."

Estel covered the hand on his knee with his own for a brief moment before rising a little unsteadily and letting himself out of the study to make his way slowly to his own rooms to clean up and try to get some rest. In the doorway he paused, looking back, and watched in silence as the blonde drew the raven haired one to him, enfolding him in his arms. Flushing a little, feeling as if he had witnessed something he ought not to have, the Man left on quiet feet, letting the door shut softly behind him.
Translation:

edain: Man, lit. "One of the Second People"
Gwenyn: twins
*~*~*

Once Estel had his back turned, Glorfindel pulled Elrond to him, smiling softly when the dark head went almost automatically to that perfect place where neck met shoulder.

"The Prince has been gone for barely a day, and already it feels like an eternity," Elrond muttered against his lover's neck.

"Things have a way of working themselves out," Glorfindel replied, pressing a soft kiss to the dark crown resting on his shoulder. "Legolas will be found safe, and both boys will cool down, given time," he reassured his lover. "Even if it takes a few centuries, they will be back to normal."

Elrond wasn't quite sure he totally appreciated the humor, and moaned softly at the thought of centuries.

Glorfindel chuckled softly. "It can't be as bad as all that, my lord?"

Elrond pulled back to look his lover in his deep blue eyes. "Did you not just escort Estel in here with blood pouring from his nose as a result of something Elladan did?"

The blonde nodded slightly in concession. "Aye."

Elrond sighed again. "He almost broke his hand last night, glaur nín," he said softly. "He took his anger out on a wall."

"Elrohir went after him, penmuin," Glorfindel assured his lover. "If anyone can sort Elladan out, it will be his twin." The blonde held his arms out again and sighed softly when they once again enfolded the dark haired elf.

"I'm worried for both of them, Glorfindel," Elrond said softly against his lover's tunic. "The Prince has become like one of my own sons, and I fear for him, being alone on the road. And the look in Elladan's eyes last night haunts me."

For all his years and wisdom, Glorfindel could find no words that would not sound trite or petty. So instead he held his lover close, lending him the support he would need to see himself and the family through the coming days.


Translation:
Glaur: is the root of Glor: meaning golden light (spec. of the golden tree Laurelin) So this would be, in essence, the first part of Glorfindel's name, his full name meaning, literally, hair of golden light. So, Glaur nín: golden one.
Penmuin: dear one